Forgive Me Page 25

  ‘It hasn’t got the same snappy quality.’ She laughed. ‘But I’m really glad you came.’

  She tucked her hand under his arm as they left the station. ‘I’ve got heaps to tell you,’ she said. ‘But Gregor invited us up for supper with him tonight. I can phone and cancel if you don’t fancy it.’

  ‘I’m easy,’ he said. ‘As long as we can do what we like the rest of the holiday.’

  ‘I think I’m done here now,’ she said. ‘I thought we could drive further north tomorrow. Maybe we could go to Glencoe.’

  Eva’s premonition was right. Even as they walked out of the station to her car, she felt something different between them. He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she tucked her hand through his arm. She wanted to get closer still.

  After he’d seen his room, which was on the floor beneath hers, they went out for a walk down by the river, then stopped to have tea and cake in a cafe. She told him about both the visit from Dena and the call from Andrew.

  ‘I want to dismiss Dena as a nutter,’ she said. ‘But there’s something about her that makes me think she really does sense things. As for Andrew, why is he so worried about the diaries? You don’t get in a flap about something if you’ve got nothing to hide, do you?’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Phil agreed, and then frowned as if worried. ‘You might ask something like “What did she say about me?” but you wouldn’t assume she’d written something damaging. It also strikes me as odd that he couldn’t stop himself from phoning you, given that you’ve had no contact with him since you left home. It looks like Ben put the wind up him, asking awkward questions.’

  ‘And what do you think about Dena?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, I’ve never believed in all that tarot and stuff. But she does, and therefore she is convincing. Do you believe your mum did something bad?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to believe it. And anyway, what can it be? She murdered someone? She robbed a bank? I can’t see her doing either of those. What do we know so far? She was mean to Patrick, abusive to Dena and heartless with Gregor. But I can’t see anyone killing themselves over twenty years later because of that.’

  ‘No, but she got pregnant by someone she didn’t want anyone to know about. Someone prominent, maybe? And also married? Was it possible she stopped painting because she was afraid he or someone connected with him would be able to trace her through that?’

  That hadn’t occurred to Eva. She thought about it for a moment. ‘But if that was the case, she wasn’t likely to go back to live at her old address in London. She could be found straight away there.’

  ‘Umm. We’re missing something. I’ve got a feeling Andrew knows, though, and he’s running scared you are going to find out about it.’

  Eva changed into a pink dress and high heels when they got back to the hotel. When she met up with Phil in reception, just before seven, he’d shaved and put on a short-sleeved white shirt and navy-blue trousers. As they walked to Gregor’s house he took her hand in his. Just the sensation of his warm, big, calloused hand against her far smaller one sent delicious shivers down her spine. She glanced up at him and he grinned. But by then they were at the gate of Gregor’s house and she realized she was going to have to spend the whole evening thinking, ‘Will he, won’t he?’

  His grin said that he was totally aware of this.

  Grace was joining them for dinner too. Eva introduced Phil to both Gregor and his sister as her ‘ox’ and everyone laughed. Grace looked him up and down approvingly and added that she thought he looked more like a sleek panther.

  ‘There’ve been a couple of developments,’ Gregor said, once Grace had poured them all a drink. ‘First, I called in a favour from a friend who works at the doctor’s. It was completely wrong of me, because it’s totally against the law for anyone to divulge anything on medical records, even if they are the records of a patient who no longer uses the practice. But I thought, as Flora is dead, it wouldn’t do any harm to know what was on her file. However, this information mustn’t go outside this room, as it could cause a lot of trouble for my friend.’

  ‘OK,’ she said warily. ‘My lips are sealed.’

  ‘He has a finger in every pie in town.’ Grace sniggered. ‘God only knows what he has found out about me over the years!’

  Gregor ignored that remark. ‘Guess what I’ve discovered?’

  ‘Flora had antenatal appointments?’ Eva said.

  ‘No, that’s just it. There is no mention on her file of pregnancy.’

  ‘As I told Gregor earlier, that doesn’t mean much,’ Grace said. ‘She was a hippy chick, she probably thought it was all so natural she didn’t need to.’

  ‘But she’d lost a baby before,’ Eva said. ‘Would any woman who’d been through that take any chances with the next one?’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Gregor said. ‘She got Valium for depression on her first visit, a high dosage. She saw the doc again for a repeat prescription, and also sleeping tablets, but nothing more until January 1970, when she went back for more Valium again. But there was nothing about pregnancy.’

  ‘If she was having a prominent and influential man’s baby, he might have paid for her to go private to keep it hush-hush,’ Phil suggested.

  ‘That’s possible,’ Gregor said thoughtfully. ‘But I can’t imagine Flora doing that, she wasn’t the type. She was a socialist through and through, didn’t approve of private schools or private doctors and dentists. And surely she shouldn’t have been taking antidepressants during pregnancy?’

  ‘Did people think of that kind of thing then?’ Eva asked. ‘Women used to smoke and drink and no one thought anything of it, so I doubt they worried about antidepressants either.’

  ‘But she would have been booked into a hospital for the birth,’ Gregor said. ‘Do you know where you were born, Eva?’

  ‘Only that it was in London. Mum never said which hospital, or anything about it.’

  ‘That’s odd,’ Grace said. ‘Women usually talk about their birth experiences, both to their friends and their children. I mean, it’s one of the biggest events in any woman’s life. My boys aren’t interested but on their birthdays I usually say something, even if it’s just that I couldn’t believe how beautiful they were.’

  ‘My mum often talks about it. She had me at home,’ Phil said. ‘Dad said she was hanging washing on the line the next day.’

  Gregor nodded. ‘Our mother had both Grace and me at home too. It was me who called the doctor and midwife when Grace started to come. Mother used to tell Grace how I hung around her crib like a guard dog.’

  ‘And how you nearly dropped me on the stairs!’ Grace added. ‘He was trying to be helpful, bringing me down when I was crying.’

  ‘Flora wasn’t one for talking about things like that.’ Eva felt a bit sad that she’d never been told little stories about her birth. But given that Flora wasn’t the reminiscing kind, she wanted to defend her. ‘She did keep a kind of journal of pictures she drew of me as a baby. It’s beautiful – I wish I’d brought it with me now to show you. Ben and Sophie were born in the hospital in Cheltenham. I remember going to see her there with Andrew.’

  ‘Well, let’s move on to the other development,’ Gregor said. ‘I read through the part of the diary that comes after she was here in Pitlochry, where she wrote: “Thought of staying in M but couldn’t face another hellhole.” I think she’s talking about Moffat. I remember she said she stayed there on her way here and thought Moffat was lovely, but the guest house was awful. So I reckon that “C”, the place she did stay at, was Carlisle. It’s a logical place to stay overnight on the way south, but there’s more. That photo you left in the diary, Eva, the one of the row of shops.’

  ‘It’s in Carlisle?’

  ‘Yes. I got a magnifying glass on it. I could just make out the name Huggett above one of the empty shops. There was a Huggetts which sold harnesses, saddles and other riding paraphernalia in Carlisle. It closed down years ago, but it was qui
te well known back in the 1950s and 1960s. My father used to order things from there.’

  ‘How great.’ Eva grinned. ‘I fancied going to Carlisle anyway, on the way home. I wonder why she took the picture? There’s a painting of it back home too.’

  ‘Maybe she took a photo so she could paint the scene later,’ Grace said.

  ‘A funny thing to want to paint,’ Eva said.

  ‘I thought that too, Eva.’ Gregor frowned. ‘I only ever saw her drawing or painting beautiful things – views, gardens, trees. And the castle would be the most obvious place to paint in Carlisle. But also, why did she end the diary there? Could something have happened to her there?’

  ‘I thought it was odd the way the diary just ended,’ Eva agreed. ‘I know we all kept diaries as kids and they just fizzled out, usually by the end of February, but she’d been keeping hers going for years. Why not carry it on until I was born?’

  ‘I can’t help but think that row of shops is a clue,’ Gregor said. ‘Maybe we should take it to Dena and let her “powers” give us the answer.’

  Everyone laughed at that, and it reminded Eva to tell them about Dena’s surprise visit to the hotel. ‘She was in a right old state,’ she said, quickly running though the gist of what was said. ‘She maintained Flora killed herself because of something bad that she’d done. She almost had me convinced.’

  There was a little discussion on this, and both Gregor and Grace felt that Dena was overexcitable and out of touch with reality.

  ‘Getting back to Carlisle and why Flora stopped writing in her diary,’ Phil said, ‘maybe she met her man there. That could explain it. Perhaps she was just too engrossed in him to write?’

  Gregor and Grace both agreed that was likely.

  ‘But she only went to Carlisle because she’d had a bad experience in Moffat,’ Eva argued. ‘Why mention another place if you’ve already arranged an assignation?’

  ‘Ah, now we’re getting to the bad thing she did,’ Phil said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Maybe the man met her there, told her he was dumping her and she killed him and buried him under the floor in that empty shop. Then she took a photo of the place and later painted it as a kind of memorial to him.’

  Eva was drinking her wine but she laughed and spluttered it down her chin.

  ‘Steady on, Eva!’ Grace said. ‘Sherlock’s just cracked the case.’

  ‘So we can all have our dinner now then.’ Gregor laughed as he wheeled his chair over to the table. ‘And I thought it was we Scots who were supposed to be canny!’

  ‘That was such a good evening,’ Phil said as he and Eva walked back rather unsteadily to the hotel.

  There had been no more talk about Flora. Gregor told them climbing stories, Grace talked about her time in London in her early twenties, Phil offered up a few hilarious anecdotes about builders, and Eva told them how Phil had stopped the man who tried to rob her. They had all laughed a great deal and drunk too much.

  ‘Gregor is amazing,’ Phil said. ‘I don’t think I’d have much to laugh about if I had to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair.’

  ‘I wish he had turned out to be my dad,’ Eva said. ‘But then I like Patrick too. Mum had pretty good taste in men – well, except for Andrew. But I’m not going to talk about that any more, the rest of this holiday is just going to be fun.’

  Phil stopped suddenly, put his arms around her and kissed her.

  It was the best kiss ever. While he’d taken her by surprise, it was the perfect moment for it. All her nerve endings began tingling, her pulse raced, and she found herself melting into his arms as if that was where she belonged.

  ‘Umm,’ he murmured as they came up for air. He was still holding her tightly but covering her upturned face with little kisses. ‘This Scottish air seems to be making my heart beat faster.’

  ‘Mine too,’ she whispered. ‘I think we might need to lie down in a darkened room.’

  ‘Together?’ he asked, rubbing his nose against hers.

  ‘If you think you could bear it,’ she said.

  ‘I’m brave enough to try,’ he said. Then, taking her hand, he began running down the hill, pulling her along, and he didn’t stop till they got to the hotel.

  ‘Why the rush?’ she asked as they slowed down at the steps up to the door.

  ‘To make sure you don’t have time to change your mind,’ he said. Putting one hand on either side of her face, he kissed her again tenderly. ‘You must know I’ve wanted you from the first day we met. I’m crazy about you, Eva.’

  All the past sadness, hurt and anxiety, and all those years of believing that she was plain and unlovable just faded away at his words. She knew him, he’d been her friend when she most needed one, had helped her, supported and encouraged her. She could trust him, she didn’t have a moment’s fear that he’d wake up in the morning and regret it.

  He kept stopping to kiss her all the way up to her room, red-hot kisses that made her want to pull his shirt out of his jeans and stroke that brown silky body she’d admired so often when he was plastering.

  A middle-aged couple came along the landing as they got to the second floor, and looked affronted to see young people canoodling on the stairs. Eva ran the rest of the way to her room giggling.

  Everything about the seduction was perfect; there might not have been candlelight and satin sheets, but every kiss and caress was beautiful. He took it slowly, undressing her as if he was unwrapping something fragile and valuable.

  ‘Your hair smells so good,’ he murmured into it. ‘You’ve got such a great body too. I want this night to last for ever.’

  It did seem to last for ever, waves of pleasure which went on and on, gradually reaching a crescendo of white-hot passion. But Phil showed so much tenderness, and it made Eva cry.

  Tod had been an accomplished lover, he knew all the right buttons to push, but experience was nothing compared to being made love to by a man whose heart was truly in it. Phil kissed and stroked every inch of her body, making her moan for more and then plead with him to come inside her. But again and again he only smiled at her while continuing to pleasure her until she came.

  When he finally entered her it was the most incredible sensation she had ever known. He was big, and he moved her around, on top of him, to the side, sitting astride him, sitting up and from behind, before finally getting on top of her again, holding her hips as if he never wanted to let go of her. The ecstasy went on and on till they both came together.

  They were sticky with perspiration, the sheets were damp and twisted beneath them, but sated at last they clung together as one, whispering endearments.

  Later they straightened out the sheets, then curled up together. She loved the way he ran his fingers through her hair, his deep, satisfied sighs. ‘You are like a little deer,’ he whispered. ‘So small and so pretty.’

  For the first time in her life she believed that she was. All the unkind things girls at school had said to her didn’t matter any more. All those boys who’d been crude and callous to her were forgotten. And she wasn’t needy now; she felt she was worth something, and not just because Phil thought so, but because she felt it inside.

  ‘You make me feel brand new,’ she whispered in the darkness.

  He began to sing the song, out of tune, words wrong, and she shook with laughter.

  ‘Fancy laughing at a man serenading you!’ he said with mock indignation. ‘And I was just going to suggest I made a cup of tea too.’

  He did make tea, and nothing had ever been so refreshing.

  ‘Time to sleep now,’ he said, getting back into bed and pulling her into his arms. ‘I’ve dreamed about this for so long, I can hardly believe it’s come true.’

  They checked out of Brae Bank in the morning after breakfast, giggling because they were sure some of the residents must have heard the squeaky bed during the night.

  Before they left to drive to Glencoe, Eva quickly rang Gregor to thank him for dinner and all his help, and said they’d pop
back to pick up Flora’s diary in a few days.

  ‘I wish you and Phil happiness. You two are made for each other,’ he said simply.

  ‘I think you might be right there,’ she said. ‘Funny that we had to come all this way to discover it.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Will it still be like this when we get back to London?’ Phil asked as they drove back to Pitlochry to pick up the diary they’d left with Gregor. He was driving, but kept reaching out for her hand.

  Eva knew exactly what he meant. They had been everything to each other in the last few days. The Highlands had been way above their expectations: they’d marvelled at the huge lochs, the mountains and forests, walked for miles, made love in secluded places, stared in wonder at superb views, eaten delicious food, and stayed in cosy guest houses they hadn’t really wanted to leave. There had been so much laughter, talking and sharing stories about their pasts, and now Phil was afraid, as she was, that it would disappear when they got back home.

  ‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘It will if we want it to be, won’t it?’

  He cast a sideways glance at her and sighed. ‘Well, I’ve got the flat with my brother and you’ve got your house. Won’t that sort of thing get in the way?’

  Eva had noticed that Phil was very conventional in many ways. He might be outrageous in that he wanted to make love outdoors, or slide his hand under the table to grope her in a busy restaurant, but from little things he’d said she knew he believed in marriage, being the main breadwinner and sharing everything. He’d also remarked that he thought too many couples rushed into living together without any real thought. But now they’d been together day and night for a few days, and it had been so wonderful. Perhaps he didn’t want them to have separate lives?

  ‘It’s too soon to worry about that,’ she said, squeezing his hand. ‘Besides, by the time we get back to London we might both feel we want some space.’

  She knew with utter certainty that wasn’t going to happen. But at the same time she was wary of jumping into living with him too soon. She needed to get a new job, and they had to look at the practicalities of their separate homes and make decisions that weren’t based purely on wanting to sleep in the same bed together every night.